


Night and Day

by The_White_Rabbit42



Series: Home for the Holidays [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 12:56:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13295337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_White_Rabbit42/pseuds/The_White_Rabbit42
Summary: You spend the next several days settling in with Gabriel only to find no matter how close he comes to almost being his former self, something keeps pulling him back.





	Night and Day

**Author's Note:**

> We are moving away from the angst folks. Not quite fluff territory yet, but getting there.

You’d always found it easier to survive the daytime.  Leads were easier to chase.  Research and resources were easier to access.  No matter how stuck you felt, everyone else continued on, and sometimes seeing the world alive around you was enough of a distraction.  

 

You weren’t sure if it felt a little easier here because you now had Gabriel or if you both simply had so much to do you didn’t have time for your mind to wander.  The days passed in a blur as you did your best to get as much crossed off your list before your friends returned.

 

You took a trip into town and got yourself some proper outerwear.  

 

_ “Go ahead and say it.”  He looked thoroughly disgruntled, glaring out from within the grey pea coat and blue checkered scarf you’d bought for him.    _

 

_ “Say what?” You asked, confused.  The selection in the store hadn’t been ideal, but what did you expect from a place whose population was only triple digits? _

 

_ “I look ridiculous,” he glowered. _

 

_ “You look fine,” you reassured, taking a moment to adjust his collar and admire him.  The truth was, he looked better than fine.  You never would have pegged him for the style or thought in a thousand years he’d actually wear it.  Now that it was on him, it suited him.   _

 

_ “I look like a-mmmffphh --”  You stuffed his scarf over his mouth, cutting off his protest.  You’d heard more than enough of his grumbling while you had been wrestling him into the damn things. _

 

_ “You look good.”  You insisted.   _

 

_ He eyed you a moment as if you were crazy or it might be some trick, seemingly in the midst of debating whether or not it made him wish he had the power to smite again.  After a few moments, he peeled back the fabric from his face.   _

 

_ “How good?”  He asked, his indignance giving way to the smallest hint of pride as he raised a curious brow at you.   _

 

**_Really_ ** _ good. _

 

_ You placed the scarf back over his mouth before grabbing the end of it and tugging, making sure it was securely in place before you headed back to the car. _

 

Thankfully, it had been far easier to find the rest of his wardrobe.  The stores were practically overflowing with flannel, button downs, T-shirts and jeans, and other than a few remarks about it being a Winchester’s paradise, Gabriel had managed to find what he needed.  

 

You, on the other hand, had a bit more trouble.  

 

_ “Is that a sweater?”  He asked, eyeing the garment you had held up in front of you with such disbelief you would have thought it was a gunnysack. _

 

_ “... what’s wrong with it?”   _

 

_ You knew it was dumb to even pick it up.  It probably looked stupid on someone like you.  You’d only been tempted because it was simple and, more importantly, seemed  _ **_warm_ ** _.  He wasn’t the only one feeling the temperature change. _

 

_“Nothing,” he said almost too_ _casually, “I just don’t think I’ve seen you in anything that doesn’t button or hide bloodstains.”_

 

Finding out Gabriel’s definition of food related categories had been interesting (albeit not surprising).  

 

_ “Really?” You demanded, folding your arms over your chest. _

 

_ “What?”  He asked, innocently.   _

 

_ You pinned him with a look. “You were in charge of getting us snacks.” _

 

_ “And I think I did an exceptional job of it,” he stated, proudly gesturing toward the slew of items he’d placed in the cart.  _

 

_ You arched a brow, holding up a giant bag of skittles he’d tried to hide beneath a sack of oranges.     _

 

_ “You’ll notice, I remembered you liked popcorn.”  He pointed to the variety of boxes ranging from kettle corn to homestyle, trying to divert your attention.  _

 

_ “Skittles aren’t snacks, Gabe.”   _

 

_ He folded his arms over his chest, his posture mimicking yours.  “Not with that attitude they aren’t.” _

 

As had the rest of process of putting everything away once you returned.

_ “Do we  _ **_have_ ** _ to do it now?”  He whined.   _

 

_ In his defense, it had been a long day.  Any attempts to see how he slept had only been met with that ambivalent shrug of his, leaving you little to go on.  As much as you sympathized with everything he was going through, he was going to have to learn how to talk to you again if he wanted this to work.   _

 

_ Until then, he could buck up and carry his weight.   _

 

_ “There’s plenty of laundry to do, if you’d like,” you informed him.  You had no intention of making him actually do any of it.  In fact, you cringed at the thought of what might happen if you let him.    _

 

_ The look he fixed you with suggested he was not impressed with his options.  You smiled sweetly back at him, handing him another bag to unpack.   _

 

_ “Really?” Gabriel asked, his voice caught somewhere between incredulous and hopeful as he pulled out two things of marshmallows.  One was filled large, square shaped puffs while the other was filled with miniature sized ones. _

 

_ “You’re always complaining,” you reminded, tossing a package of hershey bars, a box of graham crackers, and a variety pack of hot chocolate onto the counter in front of him.  _

 

_ For a moment, he just stared at all the items before his lips quirked into an almost shy, little half-smile.  “You spoil me, you know that?”   _

 

_ You dropped several more items in front of him to put away.  “Oh, believe me, you’re going to earn your treats.”   _

 

_ His eyebrow crept up and the way his lips curved you thought he was going to make one of his smartass comments.  You didn’t realize how much you missed them until the spark of mischief faded again, leaving you disappointed.  _

 

_ It quickly changed to compassion when you heard the tiredness in his voice.   _

 

_ “Wait, just how much more do we have left to do?”  _

 

_ You found the bag with the deli meats and cheese you’d picked out together and took a moment to add the condiments and bread to it before handing it to him.   _

 

_ “Why don’t you start making sandwiches. _ **** _ I’ll finish this and we’ll go from there,” you suggested.   _

 

You noticed a pattern with him.  No matter what the morning entailed, around mid-afternoon he’d run out of steam.  The natural break for lunch helped ease this, but you found yourself stretching it out, forcing yourself not to rush through the meal for his sake.  You were so used to forging ahead through the discomfort and fatigue, to always keeping yourself moving toward the next thing.  You’d forgotten how nice it was to stop and breathe until you had someone forcing you to slow down.   

 

You found it made all the difference that you had someone to breathe  _ with _ again.

 

You did a full walk of the grounds, checking the existing warding around the perimeter and getting an idea of where more would be helpful.

 

_“There something you want to tell me, cupcake?”_ _He inquired, giving you a pointed look._

 

_ There were plenty of things you  _ **_could_ ** _ tell him, but when he posed a question out of left-field like that, how were you supposed to know what he was talking about? _

 

_“I still have no idea how that ring of holy oil ended up outside the window_ ** _or_** _how it even caught fire.”  You gave him a wide-eyed look, hands raising innocently in front of you.  “Though you still haven’t told me why_ _you were outside my motel room.  In the middle of the night.  Near the window closest to my bed…”_

 

_ You folded your arms over your chest and he hastily cleared his throat.  “Not what I was referencing and I told you, it wasn’t what it looked like.” _

 

_ You gave him a skeptical look.  “Mmmhmmm.” _

 

_ “This is about you, sugarplum, not me.”  His stare was patient in a way that almost bordered on paternal.  It did absolutely nothing to help his case and only encouraged you to be even more obtuse.   _

 

_ “I still haven’t ridden the Dean express?” _

 

_ He winced.  “Try again.” _

 

_ “Nor have I climbed Jolly Green,” you added _

 

_ “Thanks for that image.”  Sarcasm bled into his words, but the face he made was well worth having endure the thought kicking around in your own brain.   _

 

_ “Might’ve dabbled a little in the divine… I have to say, for a being that’s been around forever, your brother was woefully inexperienced with that tie of his.   _

 

_ Everything went still on his features, his head giving the slightest tilt as something flared within his gaze.   _

 

_ “Really, sweet tart?” You weren’t certain if you’d ever heard him as incredulous as he was right then.  “ _ **_Cas_ ** _?”   _

 

_ You couldn’t resist snickering at him.  “When did you become so gullible?”    _

 

_ Gabriel, on the other hand, looked as though he had an idea or two about what he could do to you with his scarf.   _

 

_ “Real cute, chuckles.  Now if you’re done playing games --” _

 

_ “Alright, I  confess!” You interrupted, your hand gestures large and theatric.  “I  _ **_hated_ ** _ Glee.  I only watched it because you liked it… Happy?” _

 

_ “That’s - hold up, what’s wrong with Glee?”  He demanded, looking far more disturbed by that thought than anything else you’d said.   _

 

_ “You mean besides the fact it’s filled with frivolous high school drama and musical numbers?”  _

 

_ “That’s the whole point!”  He exclaimed, about to argue his point when he closed his eyes briefly  and gave the slightest shake of his head.  “Wait that’s - that’s not what I -  _ **_Why is this place a no fly zone for anything with wings?_ ** _ ” _

 

_ His stare bore down, exasperation splashing through gold in a way that almost made them glow.   _

 

_ Your lips curved deviously.  “How’s it feel being on the other end of it for once?”  _

 

_ He sighed.  “... I’m beginning to miss the Winchesters.” _

 

You’d fixed any warding that had faded or chipped and added a few extra sets of your own.  Even given his human cognitive capacity, Gabriel retained a wealth of knowledge of magic, and you let him decide the best way to try and lay it all out while you focused on making sure it stayed disguised until the snow came and acted as a natural shield.

 

From the increasing chill in the air, that would be happening any day from now.

 

Unfortunately, finishing the property meant engaging in activities neither of you were used to: raking, clearing fallen branches, trimming back the brush on the edge of the property.  You ended those days worn, muscles sore, and with blisters the size of quarters.

 

_ There were far worse things you’d had to take care of, but cleaning and dressing your dominant hand turned out to be a little tricky.   _

 

_ “Easy there, Dr. Giggles,” Gabriel said, plucking the supplies from your grasp, done with watching you butcher the task.  He pulled up a chair, his eyes intent as he looked over the raw areas of skin.   _

 

_ “Dr. Giggles?” You questioned your curiosity fading . His hands were surprisingly gentle, handling your much smaller ones with precision and care as he re-applied the neosporin and fixed the bandaging.   _

 

_ “Because you are just a hoot and a half these days.”  Sarcasm slipped into his tone, though his mouth quirked up on one side as he glanced up to make sure you knew he was joking.  Amber was richer than it had been since he’d returned, making the unique blend of color in his eyes sing so beautifully you were almost lost in them until -- _

 

_ “Wait, isn’t Dr. Giggles an insane doctor from a horror movie?” _

 

_ He shrugged.  “Semantics.”   _

 

_ Your eyes narrowed, uncertain what your response should be to that.   _ **_Grateful_ ** _ you decided as those honeyed hues began to dance. _

 

_ “How are your hands?”  You asked, having noticed the careful way he moved them as he’d taken care of yours. _

 

_ “They feel so wonderful I’m just atingle with pleasantness.”   _

 

_ That sarcastic edge returned and you rolled your eyes before you motioned expectantly with your fingers.  “Hand ‘em over.” _

 

_ He groaned.  “Listen here, sweetheart, if anyone’s supposed to make bad puns around here, it’s me.” _

 

_ “Quit slacking and I won’t have to,” you told him, motioning again.  “Now give them to me.” _

 

_ “Thought I was supposed to keep them to myself?”   _

 

_ A self-satisfied smirk stretched across his face as you threw a piece of gauze at him. _

 

Eventually you even got him out for some proper firearms practice.  

 

_ “Close your eyes.  Feel the weight of the gun in your hand. _ **** _ Think of it as an extension of yourself.  Be one with the gun.  You are the gun.” _

 

_ He cracked open his eye at your comment,  his brow of stretching upward.  “Are you serious right now?” _

 

_ “Nope.”  You loudly popped the ‘p’ before giving him a smirk.  “Point there,” you gestured toward the row of bottles you’d set up for targets.  “Aim here,” you reached out, tapping the sights on top of the pistol.  “Shoot, and if you don’t hit it, adjust something until you do.” _

 

_ Gabriel had always been sharp, and the basic process itself was easy for him to manage.  It was the subtleties that were a little more difficult, primarily, maintaining an awareness of all the different parts of him required to make a consistent, steady shot. _

 

_ “Hips,” you reminded, as you stepped up behind him, your hands gripping the part of him in question.  You angled him back into the right position, wondering how many more times you’d have to do this before he remembered. _

 

_ “I know I’m not technically paying for any of this, but I may need to start charging  _ **_you_ ** _ a  _ **_handler’s fee_ ** _ ,” his brows gave the slightest bounce and for a moment you were speechless.   Relief quickly blended into a blossoming delight, your chest filling with warmth at the familiar gesture.   _

 

_ He, on the other hand, mistook your pause as missing the joke completely.  “You know, for all the hands you keep putting on the goods.” _

 

_ You stepped around his side, your hand intentionally lingering around him to keep his stance steady.   You folded your other hand over his, never breaking eye contact with him, and you swore you saw the slightest twinkling within amber.  You shifted the gun a fraction of an inch up and to the right before pulling the trigger with his finger. Glass shattered, as did his stare, as his head jerked toward the sound, his brows shooting up to his hairline. _

 

_ “I’m doing this so no one else gets the chance to  _ **_handle your goods_ ** _ ,” you said dryly, patting his shoulder before you stepped away. _

 

It was heartening seeing his silence begin to break, but it wasn’t all playful humor or sarcasm and flippancy that came to the surface.  Talking also meant questions, some of which you weren’t ready for.  

 

_“What happened to him?”_ _Gabriel’s voice was soft and hesitant, almost as if he was uncertain he had a right to ask.  Considering he’d spent more time with you and your brother than some of your family ever had, he had every right to know._

 

_ You inhaled, releasing your breath slowly as you tried to calm the prickling along your nerves and the tension beneath your skin that instinctively flared.  When you closed your eyes, you felt those fingers digging into you, opening a gateway through which the cold would seep.  You shivered as memories of another place flashed across your mind, a place that was peaceful and utterly terrifying.   _

 

_ “Sweet tart?”   _

 

_ This time when he touched your shoulder, you didn’t jump.  Instead, it helped you push back against the panic so you could keep it under control. _

 

_ “Not today, champ.”  You smiled, and though it was meant to be reassuring, it was laden with the underlying sadness you still couldn’t shake.  “But you’re welcome to ask again tomorrow.”   _

 

_ You went back to raking, missing the conflict that crushed the color in his eyes.  _ ****

 

Though his questions emboldened your curiosity, leaving him in the same boat.  

 

_ “Where do angels go when they die?” Your question caught him off guard as he sputtered, choking on a bite of the frozen pizza you’d made for dinner.  It took him a minute to recover, though you weren’t sure if it was to fully clear his windpipe or if he was trying to figure out the best way to answer. _

 

_ “It’s called the Empty.  It’s an old place, somewhere not even my Father has dominion over.” _

 

_ Your eyes widened.  The name alone sounded terrifying, and you couldn’t imagine it being a nice place to spend eternity.   _

 

_ “It’s supposed to be peaceful, a place of rest,” he added, catching the look on your face.   _

 

**_Supposed to be._ **

 

_ “Gabe --” You hesitated.  Should you even ask the question burning through your mind?  You always had this urge to know what exactly it was that you faced and there was no doubt in your  mind that this was a big piece of the missing puzzle you needed to understand what it was he battled whenever retreating to that faraway place.   _

 

_ He smiled, the same way you had at him earlier.  “For most of us, it is.”   _

 

_ You heard his message loud and clear as if he’d actually spoken it inside your mind.   _ **_Not today, kid._ ** __

 

You were wrong.  There was more of him there than you’d thought, but something was preventing him from returning.  Yet, as with any day, eventually the darkness returned and the light would fade, giving way to that inevitable silence and distance you tried to erase.  By morning, it once again dominated his countenance, as if a reset button had been pressed overnight and each day it varied how far back out you could coax him.  

 

Unfortunately, you had your own aversion to the night, which made it hard for you to determine what exactly was happening with him.  

 

You had plenty of reasons to be afraid of the dark.  You knew what was really out there in the shadows (though more often than not it simply masqueraded as normal in broad daylight).  It wasn’t the tangible monsters that made you dread the sun going down so much as the ones you couldn’t put your hands on or kill.  

 

The first night in a new place you were safe, as if your personal demons always took a wrong turn somewhere and refused to stop to ask directions.  They always returned, however.  

 

_You knew it was only a matter of time after you fell asleep that_ _they would find you and you didn’t know how long you lay there.  From the corner of your eye, you could see Gabriel doing the same.  You wondered if sharing a bed bothered him.  Nothing had ever seemed to, but maybe things were different now._

 

_ “Gabe?”   _

 

_ He turned his head toward you and the moment you felt his gaze land on you the question retreated from your tongue.  Chuck, you were such a coward sometimes.   _

 

_ “I think it’s only fair to warn you… I get nightmares.”  You’d honestly meant to tell him sooner, but like the previous topic, you’d been hesitant to bring it up.  You weren’t sure how much more you should tell him.  It wasn’t like he wouldn’t be finding out all the lurid details of what your statement entailed over the next few nights.  _

 

_ “Me too, sugar,” he said quietly, a heavily sardonic bite entering his tone.  “My father really knew what he was doing when he constructed the human brain.”   _

 

_ You snorted before you realized what it was he had just admitted.   _

 

_ You glanced over at him.  “Do you want to talk about it?”  _

 

_ “Do you?”  He shot back. _

 

_ You sighed, looking back up at the ceiling once more.  “I’m sorry if I wake you.”   _

 

You knew from your previous stay with Red and Roxy that you were a screamer.  Not only that, but you were a  _ loud  _ one.  There were several nights they’d heard you clear into their quarters.  

 

That had been months ago.  You didn’t know if that was still the case.  You hadn’t stayed with anyone else since then, and you hoped for Gabriel’s sake you’d moved past that.  

 

You had a sneaking suspicion you hadn’t, and it might be your night terrors rather than his that were keeping him up by increasing number of looks you received when he thought you weren’t looking and the progressively darkening circles beneath his eyes.  Yet, he never said a word about it.  

 

_ “You sleep ok?” _

 

_ “Sure.  It just gets cold.”   _

 

It was the same nonchalant answer every time.  

 

A few nights in, you switched sides of the bed with him, putting him closer to the fireplace in hopes that it might help.  You made sure to have the fire well built right before you went to sleep in hopes that it would last into the early morning.  

 

It wasn’t until nearly the end of the week that you realized what was really going on.  

 

_ You lay awake, your arms clutched around you as you tried to will away the chill that lingered beneath your skin.  All you could see when you closed your eyes was ice and steel… so you simply stopped closing them.   _

 

_ You stared up at the ceiling, watching the way the firelight flickered dimly across it.  The flames had grown smaller, but had yet to extinguish, the embers almost as bright and warm as what remained.  Yet you couldn’t shake the cold or the dread that remained well after you’d awoken. _

 

_ Something other than the crackling of the fire caught your attention, and your head immediately turned toward the sound.  It was so soft you almost missed it, the tiniest gasp from the bed beside you.  Gabriel shifted, his body drawing into itself as he clutched the blankets tightly around him.  At first you thought he’d just woken up and was trying to get back to sleep when you saw the violent shiver that tore through him.  He inhaled, his breath stuttering before he let out a soft moan.   _

 

_Son of a bitch.  He hadn’t_ _been blowing you off with his answers.  The man looked like he was freezing._

 

_ Guilt squeezed inside your chest as you sat up to check on him.  Tentatively you reached out, lightly pressing the back of your hand against his cheek.  His skin was warm, not overly so, but in no way did he feel cold.  Perhaps the chill, like yours, was based upon his body’s memories, or perhaps there was something else at play within his mind.   _

 

_ Listening to his discomfort inflamed your anger as you thought about Chuck, wondering what role the Almighty ass played in all of this.  Had he really brought Gabriel back this way?  Hadn’t the former archangel suffered enough?    _

 

_ Everything inside you responded with an emphatic  _ **_yes_ ** _ and you realized if you continued to lie there, you weren’t any better than any of the others who had failed him.   _

 

_ For all your outrage, you had no idea what to do.  Should you wake him?  Should you leave him be?   _

 

_ You picked up the edge of your blanket before spreading it over him, making sure he was fully covered before you slid closer.  Tentatively you wrapped your arm around him, curling it up over his as you rested your cheek against his back.  His body was so rigid it reminded you of stone, and you could only imagine how it must have felt for him after a night filled of this. _

 

_ You simply held him against you, hoping on some level he could feel the comfort you were trying to provide.  The minutes dragged on and while some of the tension began to give, it didn’t feel like you were doing enough.  The shuddering continued at inconsistent intervals too close together for your liking. _

 

_ Your intuition whispered something across your mind, something that found it’s way off your tongue and through your lips before you thought better of it.  “It’s ok, Gabe.  You’re not alone.  I’m right here.” _

 

_ Everything in him stilled, and for a moment so did your breath when you thought you might have woken him.  The next wave of discomfort hit shortly after, though this one was not as long as the last.  The trend repeated, the shivers growing shorter and weaker until he finally went still.  It took a little longer for him to relax, but eventually his frame was molded against you, his body unfurling from it’s tight position.   _

 

_ He wasn’t the only one feeling the effects from the contact.  Your eyelids had grown drowsy, the heat from his body almost lulling you back asleep.  You caught yourself in time, however, and reluctantly released him before moving yourself back to your side of the bed.   _

 

The next morning when you awoke, you were greeted by warmer, less distant hues and a smug little smile.  “I thought you said there was no way I was getting under your blanket?”

 

Your brows drew together until he gave a slight tug, drawing attention to the fact that you had left your covers over him.  

 

You took a moment to languidly stretch your arms above your head.  “I got tired of hearing somebody complain they were cold all the time.”  


End file.
